Everything Is On Fire

Everything is on fire They said I was crazy as a child Well the fire on the posters on my walls Causes me to rock back forth for fear The fire will reach me too. I pray it reaches you, you who doesn’t, Couldn’t understand me. The fire is spreading I think it’s reached my face now Because my face is on fire. I think it’s in my brain now Because I can’t seem to function But only stars and burning red spots On charcoal walls that once used to house That which I call my collage of Music, art, photography, etc. It was beautiful, but now, on fire, It has become even more beautiful I bet I’m not saying the things you would expect Well I don’t expect you to properly expect What is expected of me, predictably unpredictable. I go to bars to stare at the wall Because it’s easier to look there than to people, Who tell me, subconsciously, That I will commit suicide one day. The thought of suicide is a powerful comfort That and the thing about music Is the only thing I respect Nietzsche for saying. He probably didn’t even say it but the fire said it through him Right before the dragons came to slay him.